[u][b][i]Melissa[/i][/b][/u]

A pair of young boys stood before her. No, a young boy and something which was wearing the appearance of one, the shining wings, the impossibly blue eyes, what else could it be but an angel? 

And yet, the angel said they weren't in hell, that she wasn't dead despite what had occurred, he might have been lying, this might all be a trick so he could crush them later, and yet she didn't believe that was the case. 

Maybe this wasn't all just a lie and she could truly find freedom in this strange land. Which is when the angel stated his name, Lucemon, and really could it be anything else? A perfect angel who descended to become the ruler of hell, all the protestations, all the seeming truths, could she believe any of it? 

A sly, almost foxlike grin quirked at her lips, her eyes narrowed as her thoughts began to turn and flow like they hadn't in years - maybe the fresh air was useful for something no matter how virtual it may be - a child and a fallen angel attempting to guide them all to hang like puppets upon unseen strings, a world within the computer, a digital space occupied by digital monsters. 

Was their a link? She would need more evidence, and yet it seemed fundamentally obvious, a world composed of digitised information, would it not be obvious that the resulting creation would be patterned off of its sources?  The world around her seemed clearly influenced by the "real world" yet with clear faults and mutations, leaves too green to be natural, light flowing and falling in ways it would be impossible under regular physics, it was clearly rooted in information from reality, but that truth had blurred and been lost in the translation. 

Would the same thing be true for this Lucemon? Was this all a trick he was playing, or was the information which composed his form as different from the root of his name as the pseudo grass around them was to the genuine article?  He was clearly arrogant, obviously inhuman, yet for all his claims of being the rightful owner of this world, he was willing to hand over his titles should she and those around her aid him. He was overflowing with pride, and yet he willingly slighted that self importance by seeking aid even from those as worthless as her. This was either some grand deception, or maybe she was wrong and this was a genuine opportunity, she simply did not know.

For a moment she felt sick, like her head was spinning, she wanted her room, the safety and security it represented, but as her hand touched the furry surface of the bag she was still gripping tightly to her chest, a silent exhale forced that fear out of her system. She had chosen to pursue freedom, to escape the pain and sorrow of her mistakes - if this was a secret trap, if at the end of this Lucemon simply killed her, had she really lost anything? No, so she would push on, she would find this truth and maybe, just maybe become someone her sister might have been proud of. 

If Lucemon was the devil, whether this Ty was a willing ally or an unknowing tool, it would be better to be under his thumb than to leave all these children around her to suffer alone. Either way, she needed more information, more context, and she wouldn't get that unless she gave in.

Her weight dropped from under her, her legs twisting to bring her to a kneel, her voice was hoarse, tired and unused, but still brimming with what could only be called kindness, "I'll do whatever you demand, I'll serve you in whatever capacity you desire Sir Lucemon, even if I'm worthless, even if I'm nothing, if you want my aid, my support, then I'll give you it all. I am Melissa Everton, and I'll be in your care from now on." 

And really, at the root of it all, feeling needed, having someone claim there was some grand destiny she could serve in - maybe in this she could make up for her unforgivable failures and reach out to that shining star one more time.